


The Farmer

by queer botticelli (botticelli_venus)



Series: Valentine can't flirt [2]
Category: Stardew Valley (Video Game)
Genre: Awkward Conversations, Developing Relationship, Disaster gay, Drinking, Drinking to Cope, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, M/M, Male OC - Freeform, Mutual Pining, Orange juice - Freeform, Pining, Rating will go up, Shane Being an Asshole, Shane is Bad at Feelings (Stardew Valley), burger the cow, hangovers, mature later on, my oc is called valentine its cute idk, pixel cow, shane and chickens, shane is great with animals, shane loves chickens, terrible names for animals used, valentine is a fuckin nerd
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-26
Updated: 2021-02-18
Packaged: 2021-03-12 00:35:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,953
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29001579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/botticelli_venus/pseuds/queer%20botticelli
Summary: Valentine didn't expect his gay panic to follow him to Stardew Valley, but with a strangely high number of single people his age (seriously, the town population it over half single people his age), he doesn’t have much chance of surviving this impulsive move single for long.*The annoying thing was, if this had been a bar, sometime after midnight, Valentine would have been a different kind of frustrated with Shane. He was every inch the kind of guy he would glance at across the bar, clutching at a drink and trying to gather at some confidence to speak to him.
Relationships: Shane (Stardew Valley)/Original Male Character(s), Shane/Male Player (Stardew Valley), Shane/Player (Stardew Valley)
Series: Valentine can't flirt [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2125977
Comments: 7
Kudos: 27





	1. JojaMart

**Author's Note:**

> Im projecting on my awkward OC, and its probably out of character and completely out of canon but, Im in a third lockdown and trying to feeling something. :) If u wanna request any interactions between Valentine and Shane lemme know! I just like writing awkward encounters.

It felt like defeat, coming to this place. The stark white ruined Valentines perception of Stardew Valley, shattered the idealist little image he had for the rolling countryside. In fairness, he did desperately try not to come to the supermarket. But Pierre only had flour and vinegar to offer him at the local shop, and his cooking ability stretched to some pot noodle, and occasionally toast or soup.

Valentine adjusted his jacket, plunging his hands deeper into the pockets and scowling a little as the doors swung open. Clinical, he almost got flashbacks from seeing the primary blue shining against the impersonal white. No charm, no dusty little selves with organic products. He never thought he would turn into such a snob about these things, but he was adaptable.

There was a very genuine moment of terror when he saw Morris, and then he realized the man wouldn’t know who he was personally. He had half expected to be kicked out for being a traitor to the brand, but that was just his overactive imagination. He walked past an exhausted looking girl at the tills and tried very hard to make his attempt to avoid eye contact with Morris look natural. He wasnt sure how successful it was, but he wasnt called out.

First was the bread, carefully placed in his shopping basket, and Valentine frowned a little as he wondered up and down the aisle of the store. Some beans, maybe a lettuce so his Mother would stop hassling him about his diet. He could cook, he thought furiously, peering at the directions for some microwavable rice. He just... Chose not to. He didnt have time either, he had grossly underestimated the energy and time it would take to manage a farm, and the introduction of livestock just made it even more frantic. Anyway, he shoved the rice back after remembering he didnt even have a microwave, he would pick up things eventually. He'd already received some little handwritten recipes from the other villages. He needed a scrapbook to keep them in, it felt so domestic.

He spotted Sam, kicking a crate of tinned soup down the aisle towards him, and Valentine smiled, waving until he caught the others attention.

"Val!" Sam called back brightly, before he winced, looking over his shoulders like he expected someone to scold him. "You alright?"

"Yeah, just... Shopping." He wiggled his shopping basket as an explanation, and Sam offered a strangely sincere nod.

"JoJa’s finest, let me know what you like. I do the bins at the end of the day." He finished that off with a wink, and Valentine frowned a little, dipping to grab some tins of soup out the crate on the floor.

"I’ll let you know if I ever need some ...bin food." He responded, Sam grinning and continuing his pilgrimage with his crate. Odd. Sweet enough though. He had an innate fear of blond boys, always reminded him of his painfully awkward crushes when he was in school.

That was the thing, with supermarkets like this, they were all the same but painfully complicated to walk around. Valentine sighed, pushing his hair back from his face as he continued to walk up and down the different aisles. Eggs, he just wanted some bloody eggs. His chickens wouldn’t lay for a while yet, and he knew how to fry eggs. Another meal to add his painfully small ability level.

"Excuse me?"

The man he had asked had been facing the shelves, his Joja uniform jacket surprisingly worn at the edges. 'Shane' was on the nametag, messy and half scrawled so it could have easily read 'slanc'. Maybe his name was Slanc. He was hardly able to judge odd names.

Valentine relied heavily on social etiquette, it was something reassuring, and he could practise. Normally, the shop assistants would say 'Yes?' and he would ask his question and be on his way. Shane, or Slanc, didnt do that. Instead, he stared, so openly annoyed that Valentine worried if he made a mistake. No, surely someone wouldn’t wear a jacket and name tag as a fashion statement?

"Do you work here? -"

"Yes."

"Oh." Valentine muttered, rocking on the balls of his feet, trying to displace the thrum of anxious energy curling over his bones. Shane seemed frustrated by his indecisiveness and made to turn back around before Valentine sighed.

"Sorry, I um, I’m new. The farmer? That’s what people are calling me anyway. And I can’t cook so I just must buy some ready-made meals but I dont even have a microwave. And my chickens arent laying yet so-"

"Are they stressed?" Shane asked gruffly, still half turned, organizing the shelf in front of him with a half-hearted kind of effort.

"The chickens?"

"They dont lay if they're stressed. You are looking after them, right?" Shane continued looking over with a judgmental look that made Valentines shoulders hitch, knuckles white against his shopping basket.

"I know how to look after chickens! They’re just babies, chicks, I’m waiting until they are bigger," Valentine defended, and Shane had the grace to look a little reprimanded. Valentine stood, waiting for something more, but Shane continued to stack the tins, and he struggled not to let out a scream.

"So? Eggs? Where can I find them?" Valentine finally broke, and Shane let out a noise that suggested he was the one being a nuisance.

"Com'on, I’ll show you." He finally answered, turning and starting to walk, Valentine rushing to keep pace.

The annoying thing was, if this had been a bar, sometime after midnight, Valentine would have been a different kind of frustrated with Shane. He was every inch the kind of guy he would glance at across the bar, clutching at a drink and trying to gather at some confidence to speak to him. His flatmate would tease and nudge at him, until he finally went over and made an absolute fool out of himself. 'Bad news', that what his Mother would say. The stark lighting of the store brought out the gruffness of the others face, harsh lines and worn in. Underneath the smell of clinical shop and tangy old drink, he smelt like grass. Comfortable.

Shane looked over at him, dark eyes narrowed, and Valentine looked away, embarrassed he had been caught in his staring.

"Here." They had arrived at the dairy section, and Valentine had already forgotten all the twists and turns that had brought him here. Awh, fuck. This was going to turn into an adventure to find the tills.

"Thanks." He muttered, refusing to look back over, stubbornly ignoring the voice in his head telling him to stop being so rude.

"Spinach is good, for the chickens." Shane said suddenly, and Valentine turned to look at him in surprise, clutching his box of half a dozen.

"Spinach?"

"Yeah, you growing that on your farm? It’s good for them. My aunt Marnie has some mealworms too you can give them." Shane continued, staring over Valentines shoulder, not quite meeting his eyes.

"Oh, thanks. Your Aunt? Oh! Is Jaz yours?" Valentine asked curiously then, thinking of the little girl with dark hair just like Shane. Always the married ones. No ring though, his mind supplied, a little too hopefully.

"No! No, my niece." Shane seemed distressed by the thought, and Valentine smiled a little.

"Right, she’s sweet. I'll um, leave you too it." Valentine gestured, and Shanes shoulders dropped a little in response, nodding and turning away.

"I’ll ask you, if I have questions, about the chickens I mean." Valentine blurted, and Shane stilled, head tilting to listen before a half smile reached his lips, head nodding.

"Sure."

Valentine lasted until the other male rounded the corner, dropping his eggs into his basket and resting his head on the overly bright egg display. Yoba. One gruff looking man he went and crumbled under the pressure. This must be a test. He’d never been good at tests. 


	2. Stardrop Saloon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 'googles how to make shane bond with my character, and a single result comes up with *chickens*'

Stardrop Saloon had all the trademarks of a small-town bar. Sticky countertops, worn down bar top and black marker graffiti in the toilets. Out of all the places in Stardew it felt the closest to what Valentines life was before, before the mud and the farming, before the sense of belonging. It was a calm feeling, even if the bar was loud with Elliot’s singing (which Gus pretended to be annoyed by), and the clack of pool from the game room.

He didnt get a chance to come here often, not as much as he would have liked. It was an awkward combination of his own issues, and the constant state of fatigue that seemed to cling to his bones from the farm. He knew it would be hard, his Grandfather had been a strong and resilient man, always had been. But that didnt mean he had any idea on just how straining the farm would have ever turned out to be. Still, he had had a good day today. His crops had just started to bud, little green heads turning up towards the sun, and he had tinkered as much as he could stand with the renovations on the farm fencing.

He had some dirt under his thumb nail, he saw it as he lifted his hand to press at the saloon door, smiling as the light and noise leaked from the opening frame. That was another small negative, he always felt as though he was covered in a fine layer of mud. It was a good thing his reputation was largely 'helpful, if slightly awkward farmer', fitted his aesthetic.

"Gus!" He called, the man behind the bar looking up with an easy grin, waving with a cloth clasped in his hand.

"Val, I told you to stop spoiling me."

Valentine just grinned at that, brushing past a few of the regulars and placing down the canvas tote that had been on his shoulder, beginning to pull out the few ripe oranges he had plucked from his greenhouse that morning.

"I'm scamming you; I know if I give you these, you'll give me a drink to be even, and then it’s just rinse and repeat the next time the tree flowers." Valentine dismissed, Gus giving a deep, hearty rumble of a laugh as he gathered it up.

Emily was beside him, pouring another pale ale for a dozy looking Pam, easy smile on her bright painted lips.

"You're too easy Gus." She scolded, and Valentine was struck by how out of place she seemed. Bright blue hair stark against the muted wood of the bar. She belonged in an art school, he thought privately to himself as he took the free drink Gus had poured. Some homebrews the other had been working on, claiming Valentine was the tester before he had it on tap. Easy, fun little lies to keep one another sweet.

"Dont tell him that, I’m hoping he won’t notice."

This felt as easy as breathing, the soft friendships he had started forming with the residents of this place. Gus just continued that deep laugh, waving him away from the bar as he went over to serve a frazzled looking Harvey. Valentine was certain the stone-age coffee machine that would groan behind the bar was kept just for the Doctor to use.

Valentine sat on one of the tottery bar stools, the toe of his shoe still brushing the floorboards encase the whole thing gave out on him. It was nice. Painfully nice, to just sit and drink, the drink settling with a warm heat in his stomach as he just gazed. The door swung open again, and a haggard Shane walked in, eyes trained on the ground, his Joja jacket still in place, even if his nametag was half sticking out of his pocket. Valentine frowned, looking away and taking another drink. It wasnt fair, for Shane to be so unaffected when he hadn’t been able to get the other off his mind since he saw him in the Supermarket. He knew where the other lived, he had seen him trailing in and out the kitchen when he brought supplies from Marine. He almost wanted to shake the mealworms in front of the others face shout 'look! I know what I’m doing!'. He didnt, of course. It felt childish, and distinctly like Shane would win the unspoken competition if he did so. Marine had been surprised when he first asked about the supplies for his Chickens, her hands fluttering over her till when he mentioned Shanes advice. It struck him as odd, at first. But he understood the more he watched the other.

It wasnt intentional, Shane was easy to watch. That how he defended it anyway. There was something chaotic about him, like staring into the sun. Painful. Valentine spun a little in his chair, angling towards where Shane stood, the only darkened corner of the bar, sinking pint after pint. Like a burning, imploding star.

He should talk to him.

He was standing before his mind could catch up, and he paused at the thoughtful look Gus was giving him.

"Some people like to be left to drink." He warned, and Valentine opened his mouth, defensive, before it closed. Had he been so obvious?

"Some people shouldn’t be left to." Valentine muttered instead, for a moment he was worried Gus would be annoyed with him, his tone. Instead, the older male shrugged, half smile on his lips as he turned away. It was the closest thing he was going to get to permission.

"Shane!" It was brighter than he intended, the thump of his drink louder than he wanted too, but it got the others attention anyway, glassy eyes looking up to stare at him, narrowed.

"I hardly know you, why are you talking to me?" He asked finally, voice scratchy, and Valentine frowned, taking a drink as he tried to form his answer.

"We met at Joja, I asked about the eggs?"

Shane just continued staring, throat bobbing as he steadily drank, and Valentine found it hard to look away from the flickering shadow of his Adams apple.

"-Anyway-"

Shane groaned, actually groaned out loud, heavily dropping his empty glass on the bar, gesturing until Emily refilled it and placed a new one down, something close to curiosity in her eyes as she looked between them.

“Yoba.” Shane spat, and Valentine briefly wondered if he had made a horrible mistake. Determined, he continued.

"Anyway, I did everything you said. The fuckers have eaten all my Spinach, and they've had their bodyweight in mealworms, only thing I haven’t done for them is take them to a candlelight dinner, they still arent laying." Valentine admitted in a rush, Shane pausing his drinking to lower his glass, dark eyes staring, more open this time.

"Your chickens?" He asked, and Valentine felt his shoulders drop from their defensive position, nodding his head. Finally, a civil converstation between them, the groundwork for what he hoped would be a professional favour moving forward. That was the root for all his curiosity after all, Valentine thought, sipping at his drink as Shane watched. Just professional. 

"Yes! My chickens, they hate me. I can’t think of any other reason they won’t just-" Valentine gestured with his hands and wondered what the hell Gus had brewed to make him feel so confident. "-Lay eggs. It’s their whole purpose."

"Things dont always follow their purpose." Shane grumbled in protest, and Valentine just sighed heavily.

"Can you help? Please? I'm worried they must be sick, or I’m doing something horribly wrong."

Shane was quiet for a long time, Emily replacing his drink one more time before he spoke again.

" 'm not working tomorrow. I’ll come and look."

That seemed to be a painful thing to offer, but Valentine just smiled brightly, resisting the urge to grab at the other, shake his hand or some other socially awkward attempt of thanks.

"Fine! That’s fine come whenever. This is such a help."

Shane half shrugged, annoyed, and Valentine realized he had probably bothered him enough for now. He pushed himself away from the bar, surprised at how lightheaded he felt, a warm hand curling around his elbow to help steady him.

"Dont make a habit of that, kid." Shane warned, suddenly more sober than Valentine had realized, and he felt his cheeks flush, the contact between the two of them feeling like burning. Shane moved away after what felt like a lifetime, placing his drink down, empty again. He looked tired, Valentine realized, watching the gentle inward slope of the other’s shoulders, his heavy arms.

"I’m not a kid, you're barely older than me." Valentine blurted instead, and he wondered just what it was he was trying to defend. Shane chuckled, the first proper laugh he had heard, even if it sounded tinged with an old sort of weariness.

"I'll see you tomorrow."

"Tomorrow!" Valentine repeated, waving to Gus and Emily, weaving his way through the other full tables before he swung the door open into the cold night. It made him aware of just how hot his face was, the linger warmth on his elbow as he began to walk back to him farm.

Tomorrow.


	3. Chicken coop

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chicken date! lemme know if theres any situations you would like to see shane n valentine in, im always happy to take requests <3

Valentine woke up with a raging thirst, and a painful headache. Briefly, he wondered if Gus had been lying and hated oranges, this was his revenge. Poison him with the hangover from hell from his shady little homebrews. The floor of his bedroom shimmered as shifted as he pushed himself upright, his hand pressing against his clammy forehead. _Yoba._

It took him much longer than normal, dragging himself from his rumpled sheets, grasping at the edges of his sink as he stared at himself. Blood shot eyes, chapped lips. He looked awful. It felt like an important thing to note, though he couldnt quite figure out why it was so special to him in that moment. The shock of splashing cold water in his face him jolt and gasp, shivering as he grasped for a cleanish top from his floor collection.

The thought of breakfast made him stomach turn, so he nursed a coffee instead, swaying at the counter of his kitchen, desperately trying to feel better. It was mid-morning, and he winced at how annoyed his animals would be with him, thank god Maru had help him set up some sprinklers for his crops, at least it meant he was the only thing on the farm wilting this morning.

The coffee split down onto his hand as a sudden, harsh knock sounded on his door, and Valentine hissed a little at the pain. He dabbed it with the edge of his shirt as he walked over, flicking the catch and swinging it open with a frown.

Oh, shit. _Shit._

"Morning." Valentine greeted, voice raspy, and Shane stared at him with a mixture of annoyance, and sympathy for his current state.

"I’m here about the chickens." Shane grumbled, after a long pause of Valentine staring at him, his hands pushed deep in a green jacket he had on. It was nice, Valentine thought blearily as he lent down to press his wellies onto his feet, to see him in something different from the Joja jacket he lived in.

"Yeah, yeah, do you wanna' coffee?" Valentine asked, looking up and smiling at the blank look he got in return. "No, okay. I didnt mean it, I dont think I even have any milk. Cows are a little young to be producing just yet." He felt better the more he spoke, losing the edge of rasp, Shane silently followed as he walked down his porch and flicked open his mailbox. More recipes, this one from Evelyn, and he put it into his pocket for safe keeping.

"This place looks-" Shane paused, scuffing his shoe into the dirt path, before giving a small roll of his shoulders, like he had to physically push the words out his chest and through his mouth. "-Good. Like when the old guy lived here."

Valentine smiled, twist of something soft in his stomach, nodding his head and waving for Shane to continue to follow him.

"Did you know him? A few people mention him, but I dont think people realize I was close to him. It’s nice to know he had a peaceful life here." Valentine admitted, hearing the others heavy footsteps as they weaved between his bean poles.

"I helped him too." Shane blurted, as Valentine bent to open the chicken coop up, hearing annoyed ruffled feathers.

"Really?" That surprised him, and he wasnt sure why. Shane was a few years older than him, so he would have been... Well, young, mid-teens when his Grandfather was in his prime with this place. The thought of a softer looking Shane, one with bright eyes and flushed cheeks helping on this farm made his chest ache. "I had no idea."

"Well, wasn't for long. He said it was to keep me out of trouble." Shane had pulled his shoulders up, tense, and Valentine was struck by the idea. Typical for his Grandfather, pick the nearest looking angry teen and get him pulling weeds and smashing rocks on a farm. Said it was the closest some of the kids came to hard work in a place like this.

"Well, history repeating, all that. But the chickens at least laid some eggs for my Grandfather. They hate me." He lifted the hatch, and his chickens left the coop with various noises of annoyance and clucks, one, he had named Boudicca for her natural leadership, pecked at his welly, making Valentine huff.

"Bastard." He scolded, pushing open the door and letting the warm air rush it to try and soften the smell of animal. "See? No eggs, Ive had them about... Three, four months now?" Valentine explained, turning to look over his shoulder. "Oh, you are kidding me."

Shane looked up, like he had been caught in some awful act, with Boudicca cradled in his arms, his fingers smoothing over her face and neck. Boudicca would be purring, if she could purr, and Valentine felt like he had just walked in on his husband sleeping with someone else.

"What?"

"What? She would have my eyes out if I went near her, she despises me! Look!" Valentine gestured wildly at his feet, where another of the little brats was clawing at the earth near his boot, willing him to start a fight. That was Sally. If chickens could have criminal records, Sally would be labelled a danger to society. No fly list.

"They seem happy. Nice and fat." That part was cooed towards Boudicca, the chicken ruffling her wings in delight at the compliment. Shane crouched down, with a half wince as his knees cracked, grabbing for another chicken with practised ease. Nugget. Valentine had been feeling particularly frustrated when he named her. "Yeah... Yeah, they seem happy. Nice feathers too, gorgeous." Shane continued, leaving Valentine standing and feeling like he was intruding on his own farm. "They love a good stroke; you do that often enough. They arent as delicate as they seem."

"Stroke them?" Valentine repeated with a frown, carefully sitting beside the other, crossing his legs and narrowing his eyes as Sally gave him an evil little cluck in warning. "But they're chickens."

Shane let out a wounded kind of noise, gently placing down Nugget and wiggling his fingers, one of the smaller hens -Barbeque, inching closer until she was swept up into Shanes arms too.

"You gotta' stroke chickens, makes them happy. Happy chickens lay eggs. They are just a little grumpy because you dont pay them enough attention." Shane continued; his voice so soft that Valentine felt as though he couldnt be offended by the direct insult. "Here." Barbeque was thrust into his arms, and Valentine froze a little, locking eyes with the little black dots staring back at him.

"Shane-" Valentine warned, yelping as there was a sudden rush of wings, Barbeque launching out his arms with a determined squawk, heading back to Shane and clawing at the others leg before she was picked up. Shane was laughing, Valentine noticed it with a small amount of disbelief, his head tilted back into the morning sun and his shoulders shaking. He looked younger when he laughed, softer around the edges. It made something swoop in his chest, and Valentine had to look away before it hurt. He was suddenly very jealous of his chickens.

"They do hate you." Shane finally managed to wheeze out, looking like some strange God with his chicken disciples gathered round him, and Valentine just huffed.

"I dont get it. I’m nice to them, you must be bribing them, doing something for them to like you. Theres nothing under those feathers but evil." Valentine complained, Shane watching him with a gentle look before he turned away, grabbing for another chicken trying to get his attention.

"Your Grandpa didnt get on with them either, I looked after them for him, fed them in the morning before school." Shane admitted, and Valentine found himself perking up, leaning forward a little.

"Wanna work for me too?" He rushed, Shanes eyes becoming oddly guarded, shoulders inching up towards his ears again. His grip had softened on the hen, she rushed off with an annoyed little sound.

"I dont need work-" The way he spat the work made Valentine lean back, frowning before he let out a groan.

"It’s not- Yoba it’s not some pity call or something. These chickens literally hate me, and now they are a very expensive pet. I need to start making money back on them soon really before Winter. I dont have to pay you if it makes you feel weird." Valentine defended, his tone sharper than he intended for it to be, though it seemed to work. Shane stubbornly kept his head down, fingers curled into fists on his knees.

"Fine."

" _Fine!_ " Valentine stood, brushing the dust off his trousers, tutting at the Chickens circled his feet, like circling sharks.

"Bring Jas with you if you want. She always asks me about the farm." Valentine continued, grabbing a cup of feed from the storage container and beginning to throw it towards the patches of grass he let grow for the chickens, not that they appreciated it. Shane stood as the hens began to flutter and move, watching them with half hooded eyes before he nodded.

"Think she'd like that?"

"She's a young kid, they always like animals." Valentine shrugged, and Shane rubbed his hand down his face, suddenly looked incredibly tired.

"I guess. Thanks, for this. I uh-"

Valentine continued to throw the feed, letting whatever was bothering Shane muddle through his head, the other finally speaking moments later.

"-Thanks. Get me a drink in the Saloon when you're next there and we're even." He muttered, and Valentine hummed, placing down the cup and locking the feed away. Shane stood, wearily, bone tired, and Valentine gave him a bright smile.

"A sparkling water, thinking about giving up drinking. Gus and his homebrews are fatal."

His adjustment wasnt nearly as subtle as he had hoped, Shane did frown a little, but still he turned, half waving over his shoulder, a few of the hens trailing after him.

"I’ll bring some stuff for them. Not tomorrow but the day after, you don’t have to be here.” Shane called, and Valentine shrugged, waving back. He was definitely going to be here.


	4. Peach tree

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi!!! had a bit of a mental block when it came to Shane, but i think im happy with this! Ill edit this 100 times before im happy, so bare with me and any mistakes x  
> comments and requests are always lovely! i have a smut series too so uhhhhhh feel free to request on that too

As excited as he was, Valentine almost forgot Shanes promise to come and tend to his chickens. The day after his visit there had been an issue with one of his milking cows, a sore foot, and he spent most the day calling for Marine and looking after Burger (he really needed to think of some new names). He went to bed tired, the kind of tired that made his bones hurt and skin ache. He had had a bath the evening before, almost fell asleep in the warm water, and it made him feel a little better.

That’s why he almost forgot Shane. Burger was doing much better, chewing happily on some grass, paying no mind to the chickens peaking at her hooves. It was a reassuring sight; he had grown protective over his little farm animals. He brushed his hand over the gentle tuff of fur on her forehead, and she butted into his palm, making him laugh. Cute. His Peach tree was started to fruit, little collections of pink gathering up in the high leaves, and he knew he would have to get up there and pick them. This was the part he loved, setting up the steel bucket to give him the boast he needed to crawl into the branches, shivering as the leaves brushed at his shoulders and neck. It wasnt too high, this peach tree was one of his Grandfathers and had a few decades of growth on it. Tall enough to make him feel strangely invincible. His shirt served as a bag, gathering the peaches in his little pouch, and he almost froze as he heard some footsteps. It was too early for anyone to be dropping by for a social visit, and too late for Lewis to be collecting the crops he had left in his shipping bin.

"Marine? Burger is doing better, you didnt need to come over. I can give you a peach though."

He didnt get an answer, he could hear the footsteps continue though, the high clucking of his chickens starting to ring out. They sounded happy. Given how much they hated him, it made him suspicious. Awful way to think.

"Marine?" He gathered his peaches in his arms, half supporting himself as he gripped onto the largest branch, using it to drop himself down to the earth. Instead of Marine, it was Shane. He was wearing short sleeves, strong arms drinking in the sun, a large straw hat perched on his head. He recognized it as one of Marines, with a black ribbon around the brim.

"Oh- Shit. Sorry Shane. I completely forgot. It was a weird day yesterday." Valentine admitted, strangely shy of how he looked. It was his usual outfit; loose fitting jeans and whatever top wasn’t dirty. But still, it felt important to him to look a little together. Shanes hostility when they first met made him feel like he had to show just how hard he was working, the hours he put into the farm. Shane looked strangely startled by his appearance, and Valentine plucked a peach from his shirt pouch, holding it out.

"You want one?"

"Not fond of sweet things." Shane deflected, leaning down to scoop Nugget into his arms, smoothing over her feathers with his large hand. Valentine felt jealous, a hot flash, but he tried hard to dismiss it. He half shrugged, taking a bite out the peach instead, licking at the droplet of juice that had started to trickle down his bare forearm. He thought he heard a noise, half strangled, but when he looked over Shane was staring down at his chicken, and Valentine dismissed it.

"I put some of their normal feed down, and the grass is growing nice. They haven’t touched much of it though. Oh! I have something to show you." Valentine continued, strangely compelled to start a real converstation between them. He threw his half eaten peach towards Burger the cow, smiling as she licked at it with broad strokes, and dumped the rest in the steel bucket he had used as his boost. Rushing off to the coop and coming back, a single white egg carefully balanced in his hands.

"Look!"

"Awh, good job, which one of you ladies did that, huh?" Shane seemed just as pleased, in his private way. The chickens acted like they understood his questions, all making a noisy burst of ruffle feathers and coos.

"You must be magic, it’s probably from when you came before. Magic hands or something." Valentine continued lightly, placing his egg one top of his gathered peaches,

"I dont know about that." Shane had settled himself down on the hot, dry earth. Nugget happily jumped from his lap, and instead the other hens came closer, all fighting for his attention. Valentine, stood watching, and realized with a frightening clarity that he was being odd.

"Sorry, do you want a drink or something? Its hot today." Great, talk about the weather.

"Cold beer if you got one." Shane answered, barely a beat of silence between the question and the answer. Valentine swallowed down the urge to remind the other of the time, barely noon. Instead, he gathered up the bucket of fruit and egg, shaking his head.

"Dont keep beer in, you want a water? I have a juice too, made it out my own oranges." Valentine added, proud. Shane looked at him, narrowed and suspicious, and Valentine fought the urge to bring his shoulders up defensively.

"Orange juice sounds good."

"Good!"

* * *

After his door closed behind him, Valentine groaned. _Yoba_ , he was terrible at this, really terrible. He almost wished he had his old flatmate here, she was never shy of getting him to fake some confidence, making some good converstation, not bloody weather based. He placed his peaches down on the side, and with a smile placed the egg in his fridge as he pulled out the pitcher of orange juice, he had made that morning. He wasnt good at talking, but he was good at making, that at least would work in his favour, right? It felt too embarrassing to go back out there in a changed shirt, all neat. Shane would see right through him. Instead, he peered into the wonky reflection of his metal fridge, sighing and using the edge of his top to wipe at a splatter of dirt across his jaw. He grabbed his 'nice glass', one without chips or the Stardrop Saloon logo splashed across it (he was a struggling farmer, and Gus didnt need that many glasses anyway), and pouring the juice inside. Right.

When he stepped out, this time with a hat of his own perched on his head, Shane was still sat, this time with the bucket Valentine used for chicken feed beside him. He was carefully gathering it in his hands, letting each hen come and eat delicately from his palms.

"They're going to be spoilt, you know. Hand fed like that." Valentine warned, holding the glass out, shivering as Shanes warm hands brushed his own taking it.

"Nah, can’t spoil a hen. They deserve nothing less." Shane added, taking a gulp of the juice, and after a look of surprise, another smaller sip. "This is good."

"Thanks! I made it this morning. I'll um, I have to work on some fencing, gather some crops on the East side, you okay here?" Valentine rambled, flustered, if he had remembered Shane was coming over, he would have made up some jobs he could have done closer to the other, try and force himself to partake in some small talk. Shane watched him patiently until he finished, and was quiet for a few seconds longer before he spoke.

"Sure, I'll let you know when I'm done here. "

Valentine felt strangely delighted that Shane wouldn’t just go and disappear off his farm, and he nodded, turning away and heading towards where he had seen a broken fence post on his morning rounds. As he worked, carefully hammering away, he could half hear Shanes soft voice, and he looked over now and again, half to remind himself Shane was still there. A few times he caught Shanes eyes, and the feeling he got in his stomach as so sweet he had to turn away, smile on his lips.


End file.
